Icy waves upon the stone, Woods that never axe have known, Silent echoes yet unwrung— What was it that made them come?Dusky wood and rocky soil, Sunrise, sunset, steady toil; Hand-hewn home and work-long day; What was it that made them stay?Trill of fife and thump of drum, Ragged coat and shouldered gun, War for field and sword for hoe; What was it that made them go?